


Fortuitous

by frozenCinders



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 18:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14219667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: It's adorable, how Miles's first instinct is to protect. When fight or flight kicks in and he's short a gun, he doesn't throw a punchorturn tail and run; his first reaction is to throw his arm out in front of Kimblee.Kimblee is immensely amused by this.





	Fortuitous

"What, the guy got away again?"

Miles looks up at the source of the voice: Kimblee peering around the corner from the kitchen.

"Why are you in my house?" he asks first, still leaning against the front door after having closed it.

"You always look like that when you don't catch your perp," Kimblee says, ignoring him. If he can tell so easily, he must not be wrong.

"He's on the run. In a chase, actually. And I'm not part of the team that's meant to be chasing him." He tries not to sound bitter.

"Then... why are you here and not at the station?"

"Why are _you_  here?" he snaps.

Miles finally walks over to him and turns the corner he's hiding behind. He half expects him to be naked, half expects him to be wearing Miles's clothes. He's actually surprised when it's neither.

"So?" he asks, seeing no immediate explanation. Kimblee glances to the side, like he's actually having trouble maintaining eye contact for once. That can't be good.

"Jesus, Kimblee, what did you do?"

Kimblee makes a face at him like he's offended at Miles immediately assuming the worst.

"Nothing. Yet."

"Then what-"

"What kind of cake do you like?"

Ah. His birthday is in a month. Right.

"German Chocolate. Or cheesecake. You could have just called and asked."

"I knew it wasn't very likely, but I thought I might find some hint here; cake mix in the pantry, a cookbook lying around... something. I didn't want to come right out and ask, it ruins the surprise."

That's oddly cute of him.

"Yes, well, the time you were a suspect wasn't so long ago. If someone catches you sneaking out of my house, people might start to think I covered for you because we were sleeping together. Don't forget: I'm the one who went and confirmed your alibi. And I'm the one who vouched for you."

"I never forget a thing."

"Then repay me by making an effort not to fuck up my career."

Kimblee is quiet now, for once. It feels wrong. Before Miles can decide what to do next, his phone rings. He picks it up lightning fast as always.

"Miles," he answers, turning away from Kimblee.

"He got away. Again," a familiar growl begrudgingly informs him.

"... I see. Thanks for letting me know."

"We're gonna catch this fucker next time," Buccaneer promises. He hangs up before Miles can offer words of encouragement.

"Let's go out for dinner," Kimblee suddenly suggests. Why is he acting so strange today?

"I don't know, maybe later."

"I already made reservations for half an hour from now."

Of course he did. Miles takes his shades off to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Fine then," he concedes. He doesn't exactly have anything to celebrate yet, but maybe it'll cheer him up at least.

Miles assumed the thing making Kimblee antsy was gone by now, but he still seems a little too quiet as they're getting in the car. What, is he planning to propose or something?

"What's with you?" he gives, knowing Kimblee probably won't even tell him. He looks at Miles, brows raised like he caught him off guard.

"What? Oh- I just got off the phone with my brother a bit ago. You know we don't get along too well."

"And what happened there?"

Kimblee has clammed up now; probably didn't think of a decent lie in advance. He's looking out the window again.

"Look, if something's happened, just..." Miles sighs. "Just let me know if I can help, alright?"

Now he's smiling at him. From a normal person, it would be a reassured "thank you for caring about me" smile. For Kimblee, it's an amused, smug grin.

"Oh, wipe that fucking smirk off your face," he says, already used to it.

Kimblee leans over and gives Miles a prolonged kiss on the cheek. He can accept that; it's a normal expression of affection.

The rest of the ride is silent save for Kimblee telling him to turn once before he missed it. When they arrive at the restaurant, Kimblee insists that they park a short ways away; further than he normally would have. Miles is a little confused both about that and about how sparse the parking lot is but he listens and just hopes to god it isn't a proposal after all. It would be just like Kimblee to set everything up for it in advance. Not that Miles had given it any thought until now.

Almost as soon as they get out, a shadowed figure runs into the light of the parking lot. Miles recognizes him almost immediately and his hand twitches for his gun- that he didn't bring. Fuck.

Instead, his first response is to throw an arm out in front of Kimblee and move to stand in front of him. His other hand reaches for his phone but before he can even unlock it, shots are fired. The man falls to the ground, a bullet having gone through each knee, it would seem. That's... some impressive shooting.

Miles moves over now, practically pinning Kimblee to the car with his back. He calls the station and reports who's here and what happened. He expects more shots, more people, but it's just the two of them and the man on the ground, clutching his knees in pain.

He hasn't been registering what Kimblee had been doing, if anything, but Miles notices him again when he feels arms around him.

"You're so fucking cute," Kimblee tells him, a smile in his voice. He's snuggling into his back.

"Just stay behind me," Miles deflects.

"Oh, calm down. There's no danger here," Kimblee assures, though Miles has no idea how.

"What do you mean there's no danger?" He has a hard time believing him but steps away to give him room to breathe anyway. He has to wrench Kimblee's arms off of him.

"I know you've been working towards catching this guy for a long time. That little chase you weren't even a part of was the closest your guys got. So I had my brother call in a favor with his ex."

"Your twin? Shit, he _is_  good for something. What favor?"

"Greed is... well. Versatile. Lucky my brother fucked him." Kimblee doesn't need to continue, just looks at him expectantly.

"Right. I won't ask and I recommend you don't tell."

Kimblee nods and watches the cop cars pull up. He doesn't seem to be in a hurry.

"You told me you never forget a thing," Miles reminds him. "Have you forgotten?"

"Our reservation? Non-existent, sorry about that. It was an excuse for us to be in the right place at the right time."

"Ah..."

"What, disappointed?" He's smirking up at him now. "Now you don't have to be seen having a lovely dinner with a past suspect of an unsolved case."

"They've already seen us here and probab... Fuck. You said the reservation was our excuse- what, do you expect me to tell them that?!"

"That or lie to your coworkers. And your boss. Though, I guess you'll already be doing that since you can't mention Greed."

Ugh, Miles liked him better when he was acting all vague.

"Fine. Fine!" Miles throws his hands up. "If this gets me fired, you're dead."

"I'm sure there's another favor I can call in for that," Kimblee assures, and Miles almost doesn't even notice when he gets on his tip toes and kisses him, it's so out of place. Buccaneer had been mid stride, walking over to Miles all excited about catching the bad guy, but now he's stationary and stunned.

"This- uh..."

"Full disclosure, Miles," Kimblee reminds.

"Fuck you."

"Exactly."


End file.
